Tuesday, February 1, 2011

february made me shiver, no cards to deliver

I sifted through forty years worth of family photographs in December to make my mom a schmancy calendar, featuring her grandchildren, siblings, and her beloved mother, whom we lost much too soon. The template I used enabled me to print everyone's birth dates, which was uber helpful. But in doing so, I was reminded that I have a lot of cotton pickin' birthdays, and there are more than one every month of the year. Except February. January kicks my ass with seven birthdays. I love celebrating them, don't get me wrong. In fact, I think it's my zealous, festive, persnickety passion that wears me down just a little. And the cake wreaks its own hazards. Harsh.

So February is a much-appreciated break from dashing to the post office, finding time for calls, wrapping, and just the fucking awkwardness that is gift-giving altogether in some situations. I have until March 9th to get the next card out, but how long does mail take to get to Afghanistan? Then twins, then, then, then.

While most people are trying to out-etsy each other for Valentines Day, I've got that covered with plenty of time before the frenzy starts. I would picture myself in a hammock somewhere, but I infamously cannot get out of them.

Of course I will forget all this halcyon of February when Hurricane October hits with eight birthdays on the 11th, and the rest of the month bursting at the seams too. But I have a strong sentimental attachment to extending birthday wishes. I hate the idea that people are too old to get cards, calls, and surprises. I love telling people that I'm glad they were born. But this month I'm setting my calendar to snooze.

17 comments:

what? you mean to tell me you're not crashing megans surprise beach party later this month? its been in the works since last year because she is totally immature about how much attention she gets for her birthday so this might satisfy her. i can;t believe this hasn't made its way onto your calendar. maybe since she threw herself a party. rofl.

Really? It always amused me how no one really wanted to be around her, and yet there was so much pressure re: her goddamned birthday. She would pout if the flags weren't flying at half mast. Blah. If it's DV's place, that was an idea that arose two years ago, so they're slapping M's name on it to appease her. Throwing her own party is so rich and so typical. Whoever is in charge must know how exhausted she is from wagging her giant septic tongue all year but I can't imagine--even within the whole false sisterhood--enough people wanting to spend some beach getaway catering to her. I mean, have fun if you go.

Tami-Oh noes! What did February ever do to you? Speaking of hating everything though, who does Dena think she is, flitting off for some vacation? We have to bring her to Ruby's and stuff her skinny ass into our booth. Maybe in my purse.

Deb-What is? That she threw her own party? OMG that's nothing. These people are like The Human Centipede only dirtier. They are all lying to each other, and they all know it, and they nod and nod. Apparently, the birthday porpoise herself, Cheyenne Hater #1, saw the anonymous spoiler in my comments, and went to everyone claiming she like tripped and fell onto my blog through no desire of her own. As if I would acknowledge HER BIRTHDAY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I mean that hurts it's so funny. I forgot her birthday just like I did every year I knew her. And my blog post was about how it's nice to have one month with no birthdays. Oh the irony. A wise woman once said, you have to remember this is a parade of idiots we're watching.

Deb, part deux-Only God knows, but her sackless paycheck can't fall asleep without her reading to him, and staring into his miserable infant eyes, so I doubt she would stray from Ward for too long.

Anonymous #2-Papaloma, don't you have more felonious things to do?

Anonymous #3-Not a bitch at all, just someone who feels rotted to the core being near such a septic group of women, knowing that any mention of my name is social and possible career suicide, and someone who is dreadfully sick of hearing about this birthday. Someone who watches lies ooze out of reptilian mouths, assertions of the boldest nature, nary an iota of proof nor reason, and is sickened to have to nod with them because it is as ignorant as it is evil. But my ally is trapped, and very frustrated. Personally, I could not have kept so quiet, but I don't have job ties and other such connections at stake. So to blurt out a sarcastic remark about some cunt's birthday on my blog, which they all claim not to read, does not make this person a bitch.

When KW was chummy with me, and told me all about how MD tried to redirect the conversation at WIC meetings back to me, and what a menace I am to society, she was livid. She took pride in working there and was thoroughly aghast that MD would abuse her position to waste the time of underpaid staffers whose purpose it is to feed families, by opening her pie hole about something she and Papaloma fabricated. And then innocent little KW, gaping, needy bumkin that she is, went skipping off into the sunset with these hags, friends of yours I'm sure, and never had to explained how she could hate someone so much, and then suddenly having an orgasm over her birthday. But KW is also unethical, so perhaps they have that to share, who the hell cares.

The person I know has to stay anonymous, but for the rest of these pussies, they can own their words or stay the fuck off my blog, as I've said before, and like they swear they already do. (Or their parents read it for them, lol.)

Deb-RIGHT?

Tami-Yeah don't even bother, Jesus. I was simply noting how much I appreciate February being mellow, and now all their knickers are in a twist because they think all their lying bitchfaces are completely loyal to each other, and they're a little fucked because they thought they were smoother than that. Call me later. :)

Mom-Thanks. Though there is nothing worthy of your attention here, with regard to your thesis. Unless you are pursuing a doctorate in psychology, which you can't because Papaloma was issued a degree straight from God, and has thankfully re-diagnosed everyone, what a relief! I will let you know if she starts writing prescriptions, because word on the streets of Eugene is, you need them. As for the quote, it was extremely prophetic, and from one of our very own. (Shout out if you want credit for that.)

Finally, I did overlook Susannah's birthday, in part because there is no shipping involved. But hark! We will play our soft guitars into the glittery night, and into the frabjous day, calooh callay!

And lastly-I will direct further comments to Full Disclosure. I have added some new material hot off the press.

Looks as though things have been rich while I was away. I was eager to see if you had finished the piece you'd posted on Full Disclosure, but it came up on a default page. It was totally empty, yet you just directed comments there. I need answers!

Welcome home!Answers you shall have. I changed the template on F.D. and managed to fuck up the settings. Sorry for the cliffhanger, though I'm glad the draft was left unattended rather than the real blog. Blah.

Okay, I require pictures stat. I need incentive to board an airplane to go see Mesina!